Windows to Darkness
by Shikyou Daemon
Summary: A handful of aged letters and broken memories do nothing to resolve the pain in the hearts of those responsible for the destruction of their own world. Genesis Rhapsodos and Weiss the Immaculate slowly watch their lives fall apart as the world rebuilds.


Author's Note - After much consideration, I've finally decided to return to fanfiction. After a bit, I think I may return to my older fanfictions - but for now, I'm just settling with some Final Fantasy/Kingdom Hearts crossover - just how did Radiant Garden Fall, and how are the ones responsible reacting to the world's reunion?

This is Nero/Weiss/Genesis-centric. It'll take place mostly in flashbacks and letters. :3

* * *

Dear Genesis,

I want to be blunt. I'm not writing out of any heartfelt brotherly love, nor am I 'reaching out to you' as you so desperately wished during those short-lived, desperate brotherly periods that came and went as frequently as the power in the dilapidated apartment that the three of us shared once upon a time. We did not, as you now wrongfully point out, "deserve our fate." But I'm certain that deep down, you can understand that just as well as I can understand you.

You were a failure as a brother - though it was to be expected. You were unprepared to deal with two boys who didn't particularly_ like _you for the soul reason that you were **there**. There is the most accurate description I can put of your role in our lives, you were merely existing on the outskirts - never bothering to commit to what you must have known was sacred ground that you could not touch. Never the less, it was no more shocking that we were unhappy than it was that you were jealous.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

When we arrived on your doorstep - we meaning myself and the **brother you will not address** - we were a little more than half-dead and broken hearted. I was no more than seventeen - do you recall that birthday? And he - he meaning Nero, the child who could no more control his actions than I could the rise and fall of the sun, though ironically he managed to do just that - was just barely fourteen. Oh, what a pair we made. I remember the look on your face all too well...** revulsion**. We just didn't fit into your perfect, cookie-cutter life. We were on the outskirts - we were _unfit_.

However to us, to my younger brother who could not have aged to the proper mental age in that terrible place (indeed, that may have been the cause of what was to happen years later), we had just proved our worth by crawling out from the filthy underground into the beautiful sunlight above. We were unused to it, helpless in all sense of the word, knowing only the name and address written on a stolen medical file that we were never meant to see.

You meant hope for us - did you know that, Genesis? You were proof that an experiment could live a happy, normal life - and though Nero's frequent illnesses plagued our travels, we were certain that it would all be worth it the moment we saw you. You see, in DeepGround, nothing was more important than family ties. We never thought that rejection could happen - we never hesitated in our pursuit of you, of the town we once called home. And for that, I'm sorry - it never crossed our minds that you didn't want us, or that we may not want you when the time came. All we knew was that for once, we had **hope **- and that was something that we had lacked since we had been uprooted from our once peaceful life.

But I'm certain you recall how this went.

Just remember this - there is more to this tale, and perhaps one day, you'll be ready to hear it. Just take comfort in the fact that I'm alive... As for him, I'm still searching.

Love,  
Weiss "the Immaculate" Rhapsodos

He was alive.

Oh dear Goddess, he was alive.

Genesis wasn't sure if he should be relieved or concerned. Ten years had passed since he'd last lain eyes upon his younger brother, ten years since they'd last exchanged words (and oh, what vile words those had been), ten years since they'd put the youngest to rest.

How had those years treated Weiss? He couldn't imagine that the middle child had stayed sane this long without something to hold onto - Nero had been his support, his love, the one thing that had kept him sane though the child was far from stable himself. They had needed each other - couldn't even stand sleeping in separate rooms, in separate beds.

Perhaps things would have been different if he had been a more capable brother. At that time, after all those years, just seeing the two of them had been such an unpleasant shock. Nero had been more dead than alive, and Weiss had been burning with rage that even vengeance couldn't quench.

He wished he could have saved them. Should have saved them.

Closing his eyes, the exhausted man allowed the memories to wash over him, pulling a strong whiskey from the shelf and collapsing on the sunken mattress in the corner of his one room apartment.

And now, he mused, bringing the bottle to his lips, we return to the beginning of the end.

* * *


End file.
